


Coming Home

by GleefullyWicked



Category: The Prom - Sklar/Beguelin/Martin
Genre: Betsy Nolan being outstanding, Careful chirren that’s a lot a Taylor Swift lyric titles, F/F, Mutual Pining, because everyone's adults now, indiana indiana-ing, just pretend The Prom took place in 2012, rekindling TRUE LOVE, slow reheat?, this was inspired by so many rom com tropes i can't even list them all, veronica greene being not terrible? it's more likely than you think
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2020-06-03 07:32:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19459336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GleefullyWicked/pseuds/GleefullyWicked
Summary: It's been seven years since James Madison High School's very first inclusive prom and six since Alyssa Greene last spoke to Emma Nolan. Recently graduated from law school in New York, Alyssa finally agreed to one of her mother's invitations home to attend Edgewater's 38th annual Fourth of July parade and festival being organized by the PTA. Little did she know that a certain newly-minted music teacher would be causing a stir again, both in the town and in herself.





	1. There We Are Again On That Little Town Street

Alyssa Greene can only recall one time when anything ever drastically changed in Indiana, so it shouldn’t be much of a shock to her that the town looks basically the same after seven years.

There might be a few more non-diner restaurants than she remembers, each made of the rustic-chic wood and stone materials that gentrifiers seem to love so much, and nice houses stand beside aging trailers along the lakes, but it’s definitely still Edgewater to its core. 

She thinks back to the last time she was here, the sweltering heat of the late summer beating down on her in the passenger seat of Emma’s truck, windows down as the town passed them by. The Indianapolis airport isn’t a very long drive out of town, but she remembers savoring every moment while trying not to look at her luggage in the rearview mirror.

Emma, for her part, was considerate enough to drive with one hand, never letting Alyssa’s go until their final goodbye at the security checkpoint.

They’d told each other that it wouldn’t be the end for them, that Skype and texting exist for a reason, but Alyssa knew in the back of her mind that they might not make it. Statistics also exist for a reason, and no matter how much she would have liked to think otherwise, she and Emma were no more special than any other couple swearing their colleges being 800 miles apart wouldn’t cause a rift between them.

_ “You’ve really changed.” _

Emma’s words still echo in the back of her mind, over six years old now and yet, to this day, they sting like lemon juice on a papercut. Maybe because they’ve never been truer than they are now.

She turns down her old street, kids playing a round of basketball in the street parting like the Red Sea for her rental car to pass through. She doesn’t recognize any of them, though she supposes a couple of them could be the children of people she went to school with--which is a weird and startling concept, now that she thinks about it.

Alyssa’s mother’s house emerges near the end of the street, yard immaculately mowed and yellow rose bushes in full bloom, the oak tree still standing there with the wooden swing swaying slightly in the breeze. Everything about the place is bittersweet. For years, she saw it as a prison, but some memories, like a father who once cared enough to spend an afternoon pushing his daughter on a swing, or a mother who taught her how to garden...sometimes those things can’t be erased, no matter how much she would like them to be. That’s why she’s always insisted her mother come to New York, until now.

Her mom’s made steps—she’s stopped asking if Alyssa has met any nice men, so that’s a start—but even all these years later, girl problems are not exactly something they can talk about during her visits. Her father...well, he’s not dead, though, in her darker moments, Alyssa sometimes wonders if that would have been easier to stomach than to find out he married a few years after he left her mother and had three more kids who he didn’t step out on. She always knew it was a possibility when she decided to track him down via one of those internet DNA tests, but she hadn’t realized how much it would hurt.

Alyssa parks the car on the curb in front of the house and takes a moment to breathe. Being back here feels like ten tons weighing down on her chest. She’s not Alyssa Greene, fast-tracked future partner at one of the most up and coming law firms in New York, she’s just that scared girl who couldn’t even go to the prom without the whole world crumbling around her.

She should have never agreed to come home for this stupid festival.

_ But you did, so stop whining. _

With that self-inflicted slap to the face, she gets out of the car and steels herself as if she were about to enter a courtroom rather than her childhood home (Not that there’s really much courtroom action in contract law, even when you’re allowed to have cases to yourself). She checks the time on her phone and briefly hopes her mother might be at a showing before those hopes are dashed.

“Oh, you’re home!” Veronica Greene yells from the porch, running to her and pulling her into a hug far too tight for comfort. “Why didn’t you call me when your plane got in?”

“I wanted to surprise you.” Alyssa lies, as she just wanted to give herself leeway in the event that she had decided last minute to take her rented Prius on a little detour all the way to the California coast.

“Well, you definitely succeeded.” Mrs. Greene takes a step back to get a better look at her daughter. “My goodness, I don’t know how you keep getting more gorgeous by the day.”

“Second puberty,” Alyssa doesn’t really know what else to say besides that or maybe  _ I haven’t sat down to a full meal in three years _ . It’s odd to be complimented after years of endless criticism over everything from her weight to her grades. Alyssa guesses that now she’s on the verge of achieving everything her mother had hoped she would, gay or not, that she can pat herself on the back for a job (mostly) well done.

“Well, are you hungry? I know they charge an arm and a leg for airline food now.”

“Starved,” Alyssa admits just as her stomach rumbles in anticipation of something that’s not an everything bagel. She grabs her suitcase from the trunk and follows her mom into the house, envisioning a big piece of cheat day Hoosier pie.

“Well, I’d offer to cook you something, but I’m already late to a PTA meeting. Would you like to tag along and we could go to Applebee’s afterward?” Her mother offers as Alyssa feels her face fall. Applebee’s is better than nothing, but she knows how long those PTA meetings can go. And then it hits her.

“Wait, don’t you have to have a kid at the school to be in the PTA?”

It’s a perfectly reasonable question that her mother looks far too taken aback by. “That’s a common misconception, actually. They welcome every member of the community who cares about the children.”

“Those lucky kids…” Alyssa mutters under her breath, putting her suitcase off to the side.

“Hmm?” Her mother asks, clearly having heard her.

“Those kids are lucky to have a PTA president so devoted to their needs,” Alyssa responds with a grimace-y smile. Being able to joke about the prom incident, even if only half-heartedly, is all she can do to not hate her mother more than any straight daughter would with the hellish upbringing she had.

“If you must know, I was ousted as president.” Her mother admits, the sting of that blow to her ego still seemingly fresh. She grabs her keys from the side table and leads Alyssa back out to the SUV.

“I can’t  _ possibly  _ imagine why.”

* * *

The meeting has already gone into full-swing by the time Alyssa and her mother make it through the gym doors, the loud crack and whoosh of them opening and closing draws the attention of all the meeting’s attendees briefly before a balding, beefy man standing before the PTA begins what could only be a planned spiel. Alyssa and her mother take their seats near the back. It must be the cause of great shame for her mother to be demoted—her reputation has already been tarnished enough by raising a gay daughter, after all--but she can only hope it’s taught her some humility if she still is able to go to these meetings and not lead the conversations. Or maybe her refusal to leave the is some kind of last stand for her. Probably that last one.

“Can I just start off by saying how  _ DARE  _ you think it appropriate to cut ‘God Bless the USA’ out of the Fourth of July Parade. It’s disrespectful to both our president and our country!” The man at the podium begins, leaning too close into the mic, and Alyssa can see a slightly aged Principal Hawkins die a little inside. “First the football team kneeling during the national anthem and now this?” The man turns an increasingly vibrant shade of red as he reads off his prepared speech from a crumpled piece of lined yellow paper.

Apparently, Alyssa has missed far more than her mother’s let on, though she should have assumed as much.

Principal Hawkins projects his voice to the gym in that way only principals can without mics. “Mr. Taylor, as we’ve covered before, the school is not going to shut down our students’ right to peaceful protest. It’s unconstitutional and we can’t afford a lawsuit.” He reminds the man, who doesn’t seem to take that answer very well, judging by the sight of the whites of his knuckles on the sides of the podium. “And as for the replacement song choice, it’s not up to me but to our band and orchestra teacher.”

“Oh, like  _ she  _ knows about respecting her country.” The man shouts, to a chorus of agreement from almost everyone else in the room before storming off-stage to slump back into his seat in the front, his job done as hateful hypeman.

Alyssa’s mother is notably quiet, which she finds more than a little suspicious. Since when does (former) PTA president Veronica Greene back down from unpatriotic music teacher blood in the water? This is the shit she lives for since she had to stop being overtly homophobic.

“In any case, she certainly has experience with this PTA trying to stifle the will of the students.” Principal Hawkins says, and the room goes completely quiet. “So I think this would be a good time to hand the mic over to her. Ms. Nolan, if you please?”

_ Holy shit. _

There she is. Emerging from a seat near the back of the stage is Emma Nolan in all her glory. Her hair is shorter, and she’s dressed more like how Alyssa imagines a high school band teacher would in 90-degree weather, yet she still looks way too young to be anyone’s teacher. She looks absolutely gorgeous, though Alyssa’s pretty sure she’s not supposed to think that anymore. But more than anything, she looks petrified while trying her best to hide it. 

“Thank you, Principal Hawkins,” Emma says, taking to the podium and clearing her throat before continuing. “Parents, I’ve heard your concerns regarding the change to our parade setlist. _Believe me,_ I‘ve heard them. But you have to understand that in the end, the decision was not up to me. It came down to my students, who refused to play what they consider to be conservative propaganda.” She nods in the direction of a boy who must be the sitting student council president required to listen to this shit during his summer break. Alyssa does not envy him right now.

“But you replaced it with a  _ liberal _ protest song!” A woman chimes up. Thankfully, it was  _ not _ Mrs. Greene, though Alyssa can sense how increasingly antsy she is not being able to speak her piece.

Emma sighs and rubs at her eyes under her glasses. “This is a high school band and they have a limited repertoire. ‘Everyday People’ is a song they just so happened to already know. Now, if you folks think you can drag your kids in here from their summer vacation for six-hour rehearsals every day until the fourth so they can learn to play and march to something else, then, by all means, I’ll change the setlist. But if not, my hands are tied.” With that, she straightens her posture, trying to give off an air of confidence while she stands her ground. If Alyssa didn’t know better, she  _ might  _ suspect that Emma did this whole thing on purpose.

There’s a rabble of overlapping sounds of complaint before a blonde woman with an asymmetrical bob who looks like she jumped out of an episode of The Pioneer Woman steps up to address the other parents—this must be Alyssa’s mother’s replacement.

“Now, Ms. Nolan, you know that this isn’t anything personal—you’ll recall that this very PTA approved your proposal for your little GSA last year--but you have to admit that this...this social justice crusade our kids are on is a direct result of you and that drama teacher pushing your agenda through your teaching methods.”

Emma frowns at the word agenda while Alyssa feels herself get a little nauseous. Maybe the kids and the real estate market have changed, but seven years on and the PTA hasn’t learned a damn thing about what happens when you start that bigoted shit with Emma Nolan. “I teach music, Mrs. Traeger. Beyond that, your kids are free to think however they like. Now, unless there are any more questions regarding the parade…?” With that, she gives the podium back to Principal Hawkins, who attempts to placate the parents by switching the subject over to fundraising for the football team, to some success. Emma doesn’t return to her seat, instead continuing on out the back door of the gymnasium.

Without thinking, Alyssa is out of her chair, jogging to the door and catching it before it’s fully closed behind Emma, ignoring the whispered protests from her mother. Beyond that, she doesn’t have much of a plan, just opting to follow Emma as she makes a power walked-beeline for the door to the staff parking lot.

“Unless you want to talk about funding for next year’s band camp, there’s really nothing I can help you with,” Emma says without looking back, having heard Alyssa’s footsteps. These PTA uproars must be a regular occurrence for her.

“Actually, I was wondering if we could discuss LGBT-inclusive proms,” Alyssa says, crossing her arms and leaning up against some lockers as Emma freezes in place and turns slowly to face her, looking like a deer in the headlights.

“What are you doing here?” She asks, shocked, but Alyssa can’t tell if it’s in a good or a bad way. 

The way they left things, she would assume bad, but then again, six years of not speaking is a long time.

“My mom convinced me to come home for the holiday. You?”

“Hawkins offered me Mrs. Carlisle’s old job last year.” 

“No, I just- I didn’t realize you even wanted to be a teacher?”

“Yeah, well, I figured if Trent Oliver can do it, so could I.” Emma chuckles at her own joke. “I guess I just thought that if I’d gone to school having someone a little more understanding to confide in from the get-go, maybe everything wouldn’t have been so shitty later on.” She shrugs. “Plus I’m not really good at anything else.”

“That’s...that’s really cool, actually,” Alyssa says, taken aback by the fact that Emma Nolan has achieved the impossible in being more amazing than she already thought she was. 

Emma runs a hand nervously through her hair, a move Alyssa doesn’t think she’s seen since they were sixteen. “But what about you? Grandma says your mom can’t shut up about what a huge success you are.”

Alyssa rolls her eyes. Of course, her mother’s been bragging to the whole town. “Well, I wouldn’t say that. I only just passed the bar exam, so I'm stuck doing the grunt work at my firm for the next few months until I can gain some clout...somehow.” God knows how she’s supposed to do that when she’s not allowed to do anything, but hey, that’s the name of the game.

Emma smiles. “Either way, I always knew you’d be a big deal someday.”

“I think that’s my line,” Alyssa says, biting her lip and looking down at her suddenly interesting shoes.

_ What is happening right now? Is this flirting? _

“I uh, I should probably…” Emma gestures her thumb over her shoulder towards the door. “I promised Grandma I’d binge Call the Midwife with her.”

“Oh, you still live with your grandma?” Alyssa asks, not meaning it to sound judgy but it kind of does.

“Uh, yeah. She sort of had a stroke a couple years ago so it’s harder for her to get around anymore. That’s kind of the other reason why I took the job.”

“Oh god, Emma, I’m so sorry, I didn’t-“ Of course she didn’t know; why would she?

“No, it’s okay. She’s relatively good now; she’s still her spunky self. I’m really only there to make sure she doesn’t exert herself too much—she really likes to push it.” Emma stares down at the floor for this next part. “If you’re sticking around for the whole week, I’m sure she would like to see you at some point?”

“I’d love that.” Alyssa nods. “She still owes me her sugar cookie recipe, anyway.”

“Oh, good luck. She told me the only way  _ I’m  _ getting it is ‘with a Ouija board when she’s dead in 30 years.’ Her words, not mine.”

Alyssa bursts into laughter, having almost forgotten that Betsy Nolan is hands-down the coolest old lady on the planet.

Emma shakes her head, having had to deal with this every day. “Anyway, I gotta go. If I’m gone too long, she’ll find the car keys.”

“Oh yeah, of course.” Alyssa nods and catches herself wishing that she might just invite her along like old times. The escapes to Grandma Betsy’s when she would lie about sleepovers with Shelby and Kaylee were hands down the happiest memories she has of this whole town. She remembers her and Emma sneaking out of the house past midnight with an old blanket to lay in the clearing between the property line and what used to be Emma’s grandfather’s cornfield, where there’s a pond that would gradually dry up as the spring and summer passed. They’d sit and watch the fireflies, sometimes falling asleep in each other’s arms, waking with the birds in the morning to find that Betsy had ‘accidentally’ locked them out at some point.

If she always remembered Edgewater like that, maybe she wouldn’t have stayed away so long.

“I’ll see you around,” Emma says, giving a small wave as she turns on her heel and heads out of the school, leaving Alyssa just standing there alone in the hallway, wondering if that really just happened. Did she just see Emma Nolan again, for the first time in  _ years,  _ and all they talked about was work and geriatric woes?

She mentally kicks herself all the way back into the gym.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was largely inspired by Izzy's fantastic cover of Lady Gaga's cover of You and I (which you can listen to on Youtube and I promise you won't regret it) but it's since taken on a life of its own, so we'll see how it all goes. And yes, you all will find out what fully happened between Emma and Alyssa.  
> Eventually.


	2. With a Schoolgirl Crush Drinking Beer Out of Plastic Cups

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alyssa copes with some bad news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank all of you for being so awesome in your warm reception of chapter one. Your comments and kudos (but let's be real, especially the comments) mean so much to me and I'm glad you all enjoyed the introduction. This is going to be a bit of an emotional roller coaster so I'm glad to have you guys on for the ride.

When Alyssa pictured her first night back home in seven years, she didn’t exactly think it would entail walking the mile from the school to the mall, where she now sits alone at the Applebee’s bar, drinking a margarita, demolishing a plate of buffalo wings, and social media-stalking her ex.

She could have waited for her mother, but when the meeting crossed the two-hour mark, she’d finally had enough and told her to meet her at the restaurant when it got out.

That was already over an hour ago, and what they say about idle minds is all the truer when one has a smartphone at their disposal.

It all started completely innocent. She was just going to look Emma up on Instagram, take a quick peek into her life over the past six years, and log out like nothing ever happened.

And then she saw The Girlfriend.

Tall, thin, and exuberating confidence out of every orifice of her body, the bitch could pass for a model, and yet there she is, sucking face with Emma freaking Nolan under the mistletoe at what the tags revealed to be James Madison’s faculty Christmas party. Unable to stop herself from falling down this rabbit hole, Alyssa taps on her profile from Emma’s tags.

Name: Lucia Ferrer

Age: 28

Occupation: Residency at Edgewater General Hospital Children’s Ward

Threat Level: Critical

She’s good with children and knows how to cook. She’s met Emma’s grandmother (or at least, her grandmother’s old beagle Gunner). She looks exactly like Emma's type...so by measures that matter, she's perfect.

Alyssa reaches for her drink and sucks on the straw, earning nothing but a loud suction sound that captures the attention of the bartender, and she gestures for another. By no means is drinking a healthy coping habit for anyone, but in her own defense, Alyssa’s really going through it right now.

Of course, she’d always known that without her, Emma would have no trouble finding someone else. She’s so funny and talented and infuriatingly sincere that it’s no wonder someone would fall hard for her just like Alyssa did. But that doesn’t mean she can’t sulk a little more. 

She gets her refill and begins sucking it down while trying futilely to focus on the Cubs game, but she’s never in her life cared about baseball, so why would that change now? Her eyes wander around the bar and then to the main waiting area of the restaurant in the hopes that her mother will just so happen to be arriving, but instead, she somehow manages to lock eyes with a very pregnant Shelby.

_ This town is way too small. _

“Alyssa?!” Shelby calls, making a waddled beeline for the bar and pulling her into the tightest side hug she has ever experienced. “When your mom said you were coming home for the festival, I almost didn’t believe her!”

“Yeah, it’s...it’s been too long,” Alyssa says, nodding. “But god, look at  _ you!” _ She says, gesturing at Shelby’s stomach. She’s technically already bought the baby a blanket, but online Target registries are a lot more impersonal than actually being there for her friend at a time like this. She hadn’t even made it home for the wedding.

“37 weeks and on maternity leave as of Friday,” Shelby says, her hand absently going to her bump. “Turns out it makes women a little uncomfortable when they think their nurse might go into labor along with them.”

Alyssa shakes her head, smiling. It’s all so strange how much they’ve all grown up. “How’s Kevin?”

“Besides scared shitless by all this?” Shelby turns and waves down her husband to come join them in the bar.

Kevin emerges, having filled out a little to match his new role as Dad, but still sporting that dorky grin of his.

“There’s the city girl!” He exclaims. “Pretty as ever.” He leans in to kiss Alyssa on the cheek, the new facial hair he's sporting tickling her.

She playfully scoffs. “I haven’t even had a chance to change out of my flying clothes. But thank you, Kevin. I’m digging the beard.”

He rubs his chin proudly. “Do you think it makes me look like I’ll be able to provide fatherly wisdom?”

Alyssa nods. “Most definitely.” She reaches for her latest drink and sips it down.

Shelby shares a look with Kevin and then turns back to her. “So, do you happen to have any plans tonight? We were just heading over to the bowling alley for something with a few friends from school if you wanna tag along?”

This catches Alyssa a bit off guard. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose.” 

While the idea of seeing everyone is tempting, she’s also looking to avoid any pressing questions about how much she’s loving New York and getting to work her dream job. Sure, she's proud of what she's achieved, but it's not nearly as glamorous as she knows her old friends would expect it all to be.

“Oh, no, we’ve got a big group meeting up for Cosmic Bumper Night. I’m sure Kaylee will be stoked to see you!” Shelby takes Alyssa’s hand in her own and pouts. “C’mon, please?”

Alyssa supposes anything would be better than this pity party she’s thrown for herself. “Okay, yeah. Yeah, I’ll come.” She agrees with a nod.

“Do you need a ride?” Shelby asks, gesturing to the empty glasses on the counter.

Alyssa turns to them and contemplates if she’s able to drive herself, and only then remembers that she walked here. “Yes please.” She says, placing a few bills down on the counter to cover her tab and sending a quick text to her mother before following Shelby and Kevin to their car--a new-ish Ford Escape that’s a far cry from Kevin’s junky old Subaru they would sometimes take off-campus to get lunch.

There’s never really an easy way to confront a quarter-life crisis, especially those spurred by the realization that people your age have turned into genuine, adjusted adults. But Alyssa must admit that she’s happy to be buzzed right now. Especially when she realizes she’s sitting next to an already-installed car seat.

“So, do you guys know the sex of the baby?” She asks, poking at the little plastic stars and moon dangling down over where their baby will eventually sit.

“A girl,” Kevin answers proudly. “Lucky for her, ‘cause she’ll be beautiful like her mom.” He reaches for Shelby’s hand while his other remains on the steering wheel and the sight is familiar enough to make Alyssa look away.

_ “It’s not too late for me to tell Northwestern to suck it and take Barry up on his offer to come stay with him, you know. I could live off the Unruly Heart money while I busk for tips in Washington Square Park,” Emma said as her hand gripped tighter to Alyssa’s, the airport just ahead, now. _

_ Alyssa shook her head. “Northwestern’s been your dream as long as I’ve known you. We’re gonna be okay.” _

_ Emma bit her lip as if she was holding back saying something. Alyssa knows for certain now that she was. “I’m gonna come see you as soon as I can, okay?” _

_ Alyssa nodded and unbuckled her seatbelt to lean over in the bench seat and rest her head on Emma’s shoulder. “Promise me something, okay?” _

_ “Anything,” Emma said, pulling into the drop off zone and putting the truck in park, her arm wrapping around Alyssa’s shoulders and pulling her in tighter. _

_ “Promise me that you won’t fall in love with someone else. I don’t think I could handle it.” Alyssa nuzzled into Emma’s neck as she tried not to think about the fact that she would have to get out of the truck within the next few minutes. _

_ Emma killed the engine and turned to look in Alyssa’s eyes, which she could feel that despite her best efforts, had begun to tear up. She was the only girl that Alyssa had ever loved. The only girl she ever wanted to love. “I promise.” _

Alyssa shakes her head, knowing she has no right to be upset about Emma having found someone else to make her happy, even if her best friend somehow managed to stay in love with  _ her  _ high school sweetheart during a long-distance college situation. Even if a  _ very small  _ part of her wishes that it was her and Emma married and expecting a completely planned baby.

God knows it could have been.

It’s no secret that Edgewater usually doesn’t have much to offer by way of entertainment, but Alyssa would never know it as she walks into the rave-like, 80s music-filled bowling alley.

Every lane is occupied, and every one of them has the retractable guard rails up because nothing kills a party vibe quite like a gutter ball, and a party vibe is the only way to describe the place. The pitchers of beer on practically every table combined with the music and the rowdy crowd reminds Alyssa of the parties at Kaylee’s house when her parents would take weekend trips to Indianapolis. Only this time, she won’t be making out with Emma in the bathroom.

Probably.

“Guys, you’ll never guess who we found at Applebee’s!” Shelby announces as they come up to their table, where Kaylee is perched in front of the score-keeping console, busy typing up everyone’s names into the system before they get started. When she finishes typing ‘Kevin Eleven’, she turns around.

“Oh. My god.” She gets up from her seat to fling her arms around Alyssa. “It hasn’t been the same around here without you. I’m surrounded by boring people who watch true crime for fun.”

“Yeah, I heard that, bitch.” Shelby says as she takes over at the console and changes ‘B Squad’ to ‘Greene Light.’ At a look from Kaylee, she says with a shrug, “My doula says bowling in the third trimester is a no-go unless I use one of those ramps.”

“Oh, please! Nick took me to Beach Boardwalk when I was pregnant with Nevaeh and she turned out okay.” Kaylee says, rolling her eyes while Alyssa looks on in horror. Her old friend is like a walking PSA for comprehensive sex ed in high school--especially if that high school happens to have two separate prom nights.

“Except that her name is Nevaeh.” Kevin pipes up just as Nick arrives with a pitcher of beer and a stack of plastic cups.

“It’s been six years; can you all please just let it go?” Nick asks. “Hey, Alyssa.” He says, patting her casually on the shoulder as if she’s just always here. He goes to pick out a ball from the rack without another word. Kevin gets up to join him, and Alyssa can see from here that they’re trying to find the lightest balls imaginable for extra bounce.

“Nevae-r.” Shelby giggles to herself.

“I hate you guys  _ so much,” _ Kaylee mutters, pouring herself a beer and sipping at it before looking over Alyssa’s shoulder and her eyes light up. “You’re late!” She calls, and Alyssa turns to see Emma standing there looking like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

“Call the Midwife, huh?” Alyssa asks, cocking an eyebrow. It shouldn’t upset her that Emma would lie to her about her plans for the evening, but it sort of does when it appears that she was actively trying to avoid her.

“Shelby just texted me to come here like twenty minutes ago.” Emma insists, hands up in a defensive stance, and Alyssa turns back around to find Shelby struggling to her feet and grabbing Kaylee by the arm.

“Oh my god, pregnancy bladder.” She says, pulling her friend in the direction of the ladies room.

“Yeah, I gotta go with her to...we gotta go,” Kaylee says in the poorest attempt to come up with an excuse that Alyssa’s ever seen, and she’s a damn lawyer.

All of this has left her and Emma standing alone together for the second time in a day, with the added bonus of Alyssa still feeling a little buzzed off those Applebee’s margaritas and still a little upset that this dork wearing a Wonder Woman t-shirt is able to keep breaking her heart somehow.

“Wanna go get shoes?” Emma asks, breaking the awkward silence and pointing in that general direction.

Alyssa nods and they walk side-by-side to the line wrapping around the counter, hands inches apart from touching, but she tries not to dwell on that. “So,” she starts. “Was your girlfriend too busy to come out tonight?” She looks up to see Emma’s slightly startled expression. 

“Uh..sort of.” She admits. “I didn’t know you knew about her.”

“Instagram. She’s pretty.” Alyssa bites her lip, her brain screaming at her to add,  _ and she kinda looks like me. _

Emma nods. “She is. But to answer your question, she’s home packing, actually.” Something about her uncomfortable stance lets Alyssa know that there’s probably more to that than she’s letting on.

“Oh. Are you guys going on a trip or something?” They get up to the counter and without thinking, Alyssa requests two pairs of size 7--she used to “borrow” Emma’s Converse for a reason.

“She’s actually doing a stint with Doctors Without Borders,” Emma says, taking her pair and leading Alyssa back to the table.

_ Of course she is.  _ “Well, that’s...admirable,” Alyssa says through gritted teeth.

“Yeah,” Emma says, nodding in agreement, but Alyssa thinks she might detect...resentment?

They get back to their lane, where everyone else has reassembled around the table, leaving two side by side seats for them. 

Kaylee claps her hands together. “You bitches ready to be taken down like a clown?”

“This is a kids night,” Nick reminds her. “Keep your voice down.”

She looks around exaggeratedly. “Where? Where are there children?” She makes a good point. Most parents stopped bringing their kids to Cosmic Bumper Night years ago after a rogue pinball shot took out a five-year-old. Kaylee picks up her half-drank beer from the table. “I would like to propose a toast to Alyssa Greene, who we’ve all missed like crazy.”

“And who is not allowed to disappear for years on end ever again.” Shelby jumps in, tapping her water cup to Kaylee’s beer.

Alyssa rolls her eyes but she can’t help but feel warm inside. For years, there was a wedge between her and her oldest friends, and even after the prom, there wasn’t much time for them to settle things before she was off to New York. But they’ve clearly come a long way if their inviting Emma along tonight is any indication.

It’s all so familiar and nice as she watches her friends take their turns until “Kaylee Perry” returns from a spare and Alyssa’s own cheerleading nickname pops up on the screen.

Bowling is not a very complicated sport. In fact, Alyssa once bowled a 150 at Shelby’s 14th birthday party. However, bowling is something you can get rusty at, a fact Alyssa learns the hard way when she steps up to the line with her neon pink 10 pound ball and rolls it right down the middle, only to have it veer sharply to the left at the end of the lane, earning her a rare gutterball in a game of  _ bumper _ bowling. Along with the teasing jeers of her old friends.

“How is that even possible?” She mutters to herself as she waits for the ball to return.

“Need any help?” Emma asks, sauntering up with a smug look on her face that a sixteen-year-old Alyssa would probably think to kiss off of her.

But not now.

“No, I got this.” Alyssa insists as her ball finally returns and she walks to the line, rolls, and wants to die when the exact same thing happens again. Alyssa closes her eyes and exhales deeply before turning to see Emma making a pained grimace at her. She picks up a random ball from the return and shoves it into Emma’s hands. “Shut up and bowl, music teacher.” She says, going back to the table and pouring herself a beer that tastes so much better than she thought it would.

Emma bends her neck from side to side, shakes out the tension from her shoulders to her hips, almost as if she were trying to show off her ass in those damn dad shorts that cling to her in all the right places, and aims the ball directly for the right side bumper. This sends the ball bouncing and careening directly for the front pin, scoring a strike. She pumps her fist by her side like the true dork she is and turns around, waggling her eyebrows at Alyssa and taking the seat next to her. “Do you want my advice?” She asks, shit-eating grin on her face, and the thought occurs to Alyssa that Emma has spent way too much time with Barry Glickman over the years.

“No.” Alyssa deadpans and continues drinking her beer while trying desperately to get the thought out of her head that Emma fucking Nolan has game now. Literally, yes, but also in the Urban Dictionary sense. She doesn’t know how to handle that. Especially not when she’s apparently dating a lesbian Mother Teresa.

“Okay, then.” Emma agrees and gets into a conversation with Shelby about babysitting availability. Because her being paid to work with kids wasn't hot enough, or anything.

This gives Alyssa time to stew in her feelings that she knows deep in her soul she should not be having. This is like that damn assembly all over again, only this time, she knows exactly what Emma Nolan’s hand feels like in her own. How her lips taste. How she looks when she-

No. No, no, no. Alyssa is not about to get all hot and bothered over her ex-girlfriend in a damn bowling alley.

What is this,  _ Grease 2 _ ?

“Your ball again, Greene.” Kaylee, the godsend that she is, calls on her way back from the lane.

“Go for the pinball shot!” Kevin calls as Alyssa steps up to the line once again. She hesitates a moment, her hands holding the ball steady in front of her.

You will not screw this up. You’re Alyssa Greene and you don’t fail at anything, especially not the kind of bowling  _ children _ can do.

Suddenly there is a presence behind her.

“Take a couple steps to the right and ride the rail.” Emma’s even voice instructs, causing Alyssa to jump slightly.

“Huh?” She asks, looking over her shoulder to see that stupid helpful face again.

Emma places her hands gently on Alyssa’s hips and guides her a few steps to the right, apparently not noticing the way Alyssa's breath hitches at the contact. “You’ve got a curve shot. You have to compensate for that if you insist on not using the bumpers.”

Alyssa rolls her eyes. “Because bumpers are for five-year-olds.”

Emma leans in, whispering in Alyssa’s ear, “That might be, but I know you well enough that I don’t want to see you sulk all night if you don’t bowl a decent game.”

“Ooh, does the girlfriend like it when you get all bossy like that?”

Emma’s face turns a shade of vibrant pink rivaling the bowling ball as she takes a step back and Alyssa takes her shot, not bothering to move back to the middle of the lane.

The ball skids down along the bumper until mid-lane, where it veers sharply to the left and earns Alyssa a respectable seven pins. It’s not a strike, but she’s just going to blame the alcohol for that one...and also for the fact that without thinking, she turns and throws her arms around Emma in a near-tackle hug that’s quickly put to an end by Shelby loudly clearing her throat and Kevin letting out a long, low whistle.

“Um...thank you. For the tip.” Alyssa says awkwardly, only fully realizing her mistake as she pulls herself away and see’s Emma’s shocked face. She just blew past whatever line is supposed to be drawn between exes trying to move on with their lives.

“Any time,” Emma replies, sounding almost out of breath.

“What the HELL was that?!” Kaylee asks, bursting into the ladies room just as Alyssa has splashed some cold water on her face.

She needs to sober up. Now.

“I don’t knooow,” Alyssa groans, hating herself an awful lot as she looks up into the mirror and sees a remaining redness in her cheeks.

“She’s obviously still into Emma,” Shelby says, walking into the bathroom and continuing on into a stall. “Keep talking. I can participate from here.”

“I am  _ not _ having a conversation with a woman while she’s taking a piss,” Kaylee states, checking her hair in the mirror. 

“Yeah, well, this kid is majorly sitting on my bladder, so you don’t have much of a choice.” Shelby says, followed by the sound of a urine stream and a satisfied,  _ “Ahhh.” _

Alyssa tries to ignore that. “I am  _ not _ still into her. We just didn’t exactly resolve things when they ended, and that’s made everything a little… weird is all. Besides, she’s not even single.”

That’s something Alyssa has to drill into her head. Whatever she may or may not be feeling for Emma doesn’t matter in the slightest because at the end of the day, Emma is going home to someone who is not her, and Alyssa has too much respect for herself to be The Other Woman. Not even for Emma.

“So if she were single, you’d be climbing that like a tree right now?” Kaylee waggles her eyebrows suggestively.

“That is not what I said at all.” Alyssa moves to get a paper towel to dry her hands.

“Kinda sounded like it was, though.” Shelby pipes up from the stall.

“Well, it wasn’t,” Alyssa calls back over the sound of the toilet flushing.

Shelby emerges, going to the sink to wash up. “Look, Alyssa, I didn’t want to say anything, but Emma’s girlfriend, Luce, she-“

“She sucks,” Kaylee interjects, catching Alyssa off-guard. It's not something one generally hears about a saint-like pediatrician-- though she has to admit that Emma was acting quite odd for someone in a good relationship.

“She does." Shelby agrees with a nod. "And as Emma’s friends-“

Now it's Alyssa's turn to interrupt. “I'm sorry, since when are you guys Emma’s friends?”

Oh yeah, there's that fake prom grudge. She wondered what happened to that.

Shelby sighs, at least having the decency to look more than a little ashamed of her past actions. “Don’t be like that.  _ As Emma’s friends, _ it is our moral obligation to tell you that nobody would hold it against you if you were to shoot your shot.”

“Oh my god…” Alyssa groans. They really aren't going to let this go, are they? “Emma and I are different people from who we were in high school. That’s why we broke up in the first place.” She realizes as it’s coming out of her mouth that this is as much a reminder to herself as it is to her friends. 

“Maybe that’s a good thing, though. Nick’s exactly the same as he was in high school and I once  _ seriously _ considered smothering him with a pillow.” Kaylee says nonchalantly.

“Jesus, Kay…” Shelby whispers, horrified.

“What? Obviously, I didn’t  _ do it.” _ Kaylee moves to place her hands on Alyssa's shoulders and look into her eyes. "Listen. I don't care how long you've been running from your feelings or your friends, I'm just really glad to have you back here and all I really want is for you to be happy. You of all people deserve that."

“I am happy," Now it's Alyssa's turn to sound unconvincing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Emma is dating someone else. No, I do not mind being roasted in the comments for it.


	3. She’s Not A Saint and She’s Not What You Think

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet The Girlfriend (TM)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, this was supposed to be out a long time ago but I suck and I've been distracted by my collabs with my beautiful girlfriend. Hopefully the next ones won't take so long.

By the time the bowling alley has started clearing out for the night, Emma can feel the inevitable exhaustion of the day (or rather, week)

she’s had finally starting to catch up with her. One of the perks that drew her into being a teacher was, admittedly, having summers off, but with preparing for the parade, driving her grandma to appointments, and trying to avoid any difficult conversations with Luce… it’s all beginning to wear her down. So it’s a rare moment that she can walk out into the cooled-down night, breathe in some fresh air, and not have to think about anything except going home and going to sleep in her own bed. 

Too bad she apparently can’t have that tonight.

“Hey, Emma?” Kaylee’s voice calls from the front door of the bowling alley. 

Emma turns to see Alyssa being reluctantly brought over to her by the arm. “Yeah?” She asks, confused as the pair approach her.

“I have to pick up Nev from my parents’ house. Do you mind giving this one a ride home?” Kaylee asks, putting Alyssa’s hand in Emma’s.

“I  _ told you _ , I can walk,” Alyssa grumbles, pulling her hand back, leaving Emma’s all tingly.

Kaylee rolls her eyes. “It’s like, almost midnight. Do I need to remind you  _ why _ I can’t let you do that? In 20-fuckin’-19?”

“I don’t mind driving you.” Emma jumps in, also not liking the idea of Alyssa walking home alone at night, even if her mother’s house isn’t too far away. And  _ especially  _ not when she knows Alyssa has been drinking, regardless of how much she knows she should be keeping her distance.

Alyssa, clearly realizing there’s no way she’s getting out of this, nods. “Okay, fine.”

Emma gestures for her to follow as she leads the way to her truck, hitting the unlock button when they get close.

“Where’s Bessie?” Alyssa asks, barely taking in Emma’s present to herself for completing her first full year of teaching--a firecracker red hard top Jeep Gladiator. She actually looks around the parking lot, as if the hand-me-down old Ford is just hiding somewhere. It’s not exactly the reaction Emma’s used to getting when it comes to her brand new truck. 

At least not in this town.

“She’s out of commission for the foreseeable future.” Emma says offhandedly, though she’s sure Alyssa can detect the hint of sadness in her voice at losing her longtime ‘companion.’ In any case, she slaps the hood of the Jeep proudly. “This is Darla; she’s a much more reliable girl.”

Alyssa scoffs playfully but gently pats a hand to the passenger side door. “It’s nice to meet you, Darla. It looks like Emma’s redneck taste in gas hogs hasn’t changed too much.”

Emma makes a show of looking offended. “Shhh, you’ll hurt her feelings. She’s just a baby.” She opens the door for Alyssa and waits for her to climb up before going around to the driver’s side.

“So,” Alyssa starts when Emma’s gotten in and turned the key in the ignition. “I’m sorry for...all of that in there.”

“All of what?” Emma plays dumb, knowing damn well that she’s referring to their intimate little bowling lesson, but at this point, it’s probably best to just pretend it never happened at all.

She fires up the Jeep and pulls out of the parking lot, unconsciously taking the slightly longer route to Alyssa’s house out of sheer habit, which she only realizes as she’s pulling off of the main street through town. After a minute, she reaches for the radio and turns it on to whatever she had playing last—which is apparently the classic rock station, as she hears the smooth guitar opening of “Beast of Burden” by  _ The Rolling Stones _ .

“So how come you haven’t been home?” Emma asks, half-regretting it as it comes out of her mouth but still really wanting to know. She thinks the stuff with Alyssa’s mom has gotten a little better if her few conversations with Mrs. Greene at PTA meetings are any indication, but considering that she’s only just starting to be able to be in a room with her parents, she’s not about to be making any assumptions.

Alyssa shrugs. “Between school and clerking to pay rent, I never had the time.” Out of the corner of her eye, Emma can see her smile to herself. “Plus, I think my mom loves Liberal New York at Christmas time more than she’d ever let on. So I couldn’t take that from her.”

A perfectly sensible answer that Emma is not about to leave alone in a million years. “I guess I thought I might see you at Shelby’s wedding a couple years ago.”

“I got an invitation, I just… there’s  _ a lot _ here, you know?” Alyssa turns to look out the window at the passing houses.

_ Yeah. I’m here. _

“Yeah, I know.” Emma nods.

After a beat, Alyssa sighs. “Emma, I always meant to call you, or-“ Alyssa pauses, trying to think of something to say that could make up for completely disappearing from the life of someone she once swore every part of herself to.

What else  _ could  _ she say?

“Just don’t worry about it.” Emma shrugs, but  _ she  _ is certainly worried about it. Worried about all the things she’s thought she would say to Alyssa if she ever saw her again.  _ Why couldn’t you have just said no? Why did you let me get on that bus without saying a damn thing? How could you just disappear from my life after everything we went through?  _

But looking at her now, Emma knows she’s not going to say any of that. She’s spent six years trying to construct a version of Alyssa Greene in her mind that wasn’t even that great to begin with, and all it takes is seeing her again to blow that up like chemistry class peanut brittle.

It takes Emma’s phone buzzing insistently from her pocket for her to remember that she shouldn’t be thinking these things at all. She doesn’t need to check it to know who’s texting her at this hour, but the small reminder of Luce existing is like a slap to the face in a time like this.

_ I don't need no beast of burden _

_ I need no fussing _

_ I need no nursing _

_ Never, never, never, never, never, never, never be _

“So, have you been like, seeing anyone?” Emma asks. She assumes it’s a fair game question since Alyssa thought it appropriate to cyberstalk her… girlfriend? Emma’s not really sure  _ what  _ she and Luce are anymore. But she  _ is  _ sure that nobody as smart and attractive as Alyssa Greene stays single for long. 

And maybe that would be best.

Alyssa shrugs. “Here and there. It’s hard to make connections when you barely have time to sleep.” 

“They’re really working you at that new job, huh?” Emma hits her turn signal and pulls into the housing development where Alyssa’s mother lives. This place used to intimidate the hell out of her, its cookie-cutter houses with manicured lawns representing everything Alyssa was and she wasn’t in her thrift store flannel and old pickup truck.

“Well, I graduated near the top of my class and I’m stuck getting coffee and kissing up to the partners to have  _ anything _ worthwhile thrown my way,” Alyssa says, annoyed. “But, you know, that’s the price you pay for selling your soul to work at Cronin and Kirschner.”

Emma winces in sympathy, but something has been eating at her. “So what happened to psychology?”

“Hmm?”

“Psychology. It’s what you were studying when-”

Alyssa nods once. “Yeah, that didn’t work out. Turns out it’s tricky to psychoanalyze others when you have a problem addressing your own issues. So I changed my major to pre-law, figured I could help people in that way-” She scoffs. “-And somehow got into contracts. So what’s it like having Hawkins as a boss?” She asks, changing the subject abruptly, but Emma doesn’t mind.

“Uh… odd. I have to call him Tom.” She giggles. “And I saw him get absolutely  _ wasted  _ at the end of the year faculty party a few weeks ago.”

“Oh  _ weird.”  _ Alyssa cringes exaggeratedly. “I just don’t see how you stand to be back there all the time. Wasn’t four years bad enough?” She asks just as Emma is pulling up in front of her mother’s house, killing the engine, but Alyssa seems to have no intention of leaving until she gets a straight answer. After all, Emma  _ did  _ spend most of their relationship together swearing she would get out of this place and never look back. 

Clearly, that didn’t work out so well.

“You wouldn’t  _ believe  _ how many times Kaylee and Shelby have asked the same thing.” Emma bites her lip and considers her next words carefully. She’s found that there’s a fine line between just talking positively about her work, and sounding like a total douchenozzle. “But you know, it’s really cool getting to work with the kids. They’re so talented and a lot of them have no idea, and that just blows my mind sometimes.” Emma realizes she’s rambling, but she can’t bring herself to stop. Her life may not be perfect—far from it, in fact—but her students mean the world to her.

Alyssa’s hand reaches across the center console to rest on Emma’s, whether she realizes it or not. “I think it’s really sweet how much you care.”

Emma nearly forgets what she was going to say, turning over to look into big brown eyes full of unabashed admiration. “It’s, uh, hard not to. These kids, they’re just so smart and aware of everything, and they’re just  _ fearless,  _ Alyssa.” She smiles, thinking of her students. They’re so unlike the kids the two of them went to school with.

“It probably helps that their teacher is, too.” Alyssa bites her lip, not so subtlety removing her hand from Emma’s as she realizes the combined intimacy of it all. “I mean, the way you stood up to the PTA today? I’d say you haven’t lost your touch, Nolan.”

Emma glances at Alyssa’s house and thinks she sees movement from one of the living room windows. They’re being watched. “Well, it helps to have an ally on the PTA.”

“Who?” Alyssa asks with a scoff. “That woman with the Dolly hair?”

“Your mother,” Emma answers plainly, her eyes cutting back to the window where Mrs. Greene is staking them out. Seven years ago, Emma would be annoyed at the intrusion, but now she’s somewhat grateful for an added reason to keep her distance.

“There’s no way-“ Alyssa says mostly to herself in disbelief.

“No, I’m serious. I was as shocked as you are. Remember how I started a GSA? She was the deciding vote for it.” Emma shrugs, still having no clear explanation for it even months later. But then, she’s also not entirely sure why Alyssa’s mother is still  _ on _ the PTA to begin with, so the whole situation’s been an enigma for her since she got back to town.

“She never told me- you never would think she’s actually coming around, considering how she reacted to finding my stash of dental dams in the bathroom last Thanksgiving...” Alyssa trails off as she seemingly realizes the implications of this admission.

Emma’s brain takes a second to process that before she chuckles nervously. “I thought you said you haven’t had time to date?”  _ She’s not jealous. Nope. _

“Well, I wouldn’t consider Tinder  _ dating,  _ per se.” Alyssa bites her lip and looks down at her hands in her lap. 

As much as she not-so-inexplicably hates the idea of Alyssa being with strangers, Emma doesn’t want her to feel ashamed of herself, either. “So… Alyssa Greene: Safe Sex Machine, huh?” She smiles wide, waggling her eyebrows as Alyssa finally looks up to meet her gaze and breaks into a fit of laughter.

“Don’t be an asshole, Emma,” Alyssa says, shaking her head.

“I promise you, I am not being an asshole. I buy condoms in bulk from Costco for my students, I’m not about to… I don’t know,  _ shame  _ you for…”  _ God, since when is it impossible to talk to Alyssa without developing Foot In Mouth Syndrome? _

“For using my budding career as a coffee girl as an excuse to sleep around?” Alyssa asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I didn’t say that.” Emma puts her hands up defensively.

“But you were thinking it.”

“I swear I wasn’t.”

Alyssa sighs. “Listen, thank you for the ride and for coming out tonight. I know you’re busy with the parade and everything.” She glances in the direction of her house before meeting Emma’s gaze. “And I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not… I don’t know, calling or at least trying to explain myself after-”

Emma shakes her head. “It’s okay.” It’s an unconvincing sentiment even to herself, but she doesn’t have anything else to say to that other than maybe,  _ only took you six years. _

Alyssa points her thumb towards the house. “Would you maybe want to come in for a minute? You and my mom could hash it out over getting me home late, for old time’s sake?” She smiles hopefully and Emma thinks it’s unfair how well she’s grown into her looks. As if she weren’t already a knockout in high school.

And thoughts like  _ that  _ are why she has no choice but to decline. “As tempting as that sounds, I should probably get home. Make sure Grandma makes it to bed at a decent hour.” 

There’s disappointment on Alyssa’s face, though Emma’s trying (and obviously failing) not to notice. She opens the door and begins to climb out but pauses before jumping down, one hand grasping the Oh Shit handle on the ceiling while the other pushes an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “Well… I’ll see you around?” She asks, her big brown eyes puppy-like in their hopefulness that Emma can only assume is mostly due to how much she’s had to drink tonight.

“I think that’s probably inevitable.” She agrees, nodding.

“Get home safe, okay?” Alyssa smacks the truck door and jumps down. Emma watches as she makes her way to the porch, turning and giving a quick wave before she goes inside just as Mrs. Greene finally leaves her place at the window.

* * *

Emma half expects her key to not turn in the lock when the door swings open into the dimly lit house. The TV’s playing a rerun of  _ Law and Order: SVU _ but upon further inspection, the living room is empty. She continues on, following the whirring sound of the microwave and the smell of a frozen dinner wafting from the kitchen.

Luce is seated at the island, glasses propped on the end of her nose as she reads some medical journal. She hasn’t noticed—or at least hasn’t acknowledged—Emma’s presence and Emma has half a mind to return to the living room and make some extra noise so as not to scare her out of her seat when Luce clears her throat.

“Are you planning on saying something, or just staring at me all night like a creeper?” She asks without looking up, dog-earing the page she’s on and setting the journal down before moving her readers to her head and folding her hands on the table in front of her.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d still be up,” Emma says, sauntering over to her with the kind of overly casual confidence of someone feeling guiltier than sin. She kisses Luce on the cheek before she puts her elbow down on the table and rests her head on her hand, looking up at her girlfriend with a look of mock childish wonder. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Brushing up on the latest breakthroughs in repairing cleft lips and palates.” Luce deadpans.

“Mmm. I love it when you talk dirty to me,” The microwave goes off and Emma motions for Luce not to get up, retrieving her dinner from the microwave and setting it down in front of her, along with a fork.

Luce thanks her quietly and peels the plastic off, giving her deceptively delicious-smelling vegan meal a stir before looking up at Emma. “I honestly didn’t expect to see you tonight. Do you not know how to return a text?” Her tone is accusatory and hurt all at once. It’s no secret that things have been rocky between the two of them lately.

“I do, I just got kind of distracted, is all.” It’s not technically a lie, but something about not being completely upfront with Luce is making Emma feel slightly nauseous as she moves to sit down in the chair next to her.

“While bowling. With bumpers.” Luce scoffs to herself and takes an overly large bite of enchilada that’s probably hot enough to scald her mouth, but she doesn’t show it.

“It’s a competitive pastime. You know how Kaylee and Shelby push my buttons.” Emma mumbles her excuse as she gets back up to get Luce a glass of water.

“Unfortunately, I do. Though I  _ sincerely  _ hope Shelby wasn’t hurling a ten-pound ball down a lane in her condition. I know I’ve already had to warn her about a potential placental abruption if she doesn’t take it easy...” Luce gestures with her fork as she speaks, resembling an orchestra conductor. Emma would typically find it funny, were she not talking about their friend potentially bleeding out.

“She wasn’t. Uh, actually, an old friend of ours is back in town for a few days, so she filled in.” Again, not a lie, but it’s a kind of omission that Emma’s sure would be a big no-no in anyone’s book.

“Well, I’m glad you had fun. I’ve just been fighting some malaria prophylactic nausea.” On that note, she pushes her half-eaten dinner towards Emma, who takes a bite that she instantly regrets before taking it and throwing it in the trash.

Neither of them is mentioning the huge elephant in the room that’s taken the form of a stack of boxes in the corner labeled ‘Storage Unit.’ They’re a reminder of the impending conversion of this house into an AirBnB—stuff Luce would rather not be messed with by strangers. A temporary change for an objectively temporary problem, but nine months is also a  _ very _ long time to be considered temporary. 

Emma knows that all too well.

She’s rinsing the fork in the sink when she feels Luce’s arms wrap around her waist before her head is resting on her shoulder.

“You wouldn’t have come here tonight for a booty call, would you?” Luce purrs in her ear, her lips lightly brushing against it while her hands begin to wander.

Emma feels her cheeks turn a bright crimson, knowing she probably shouldn’t allow anything further to happen without at least talking about one of the ten or so things that they need to talk about, but her resolve is only so strong when there’s a beautiful woman untucking her t-shirt from her shorts. “Uh, not… not exactly.” She clears her throat, but it does nothing to clear her head.

“Hmmm...well, would you like to turn it into one?” Luce’s mouth moves down to Emma’s neck, kissing and sucking in such an expert way that won’t leave marks, but is still enough to drive Emma crazy.

“I thought you weren’t- fuck- feeling good?” She gasps as Luce moves to turn her around to face her, eyes dark and wild.

“I’m not, but I can think of a few things you could do to make me feel better.” Luce licks her lips as she regards Emma from head to toe, and then she’s pulling Emma in by the front of her shirt for a deep kiss that’s enough to quiet any of Emma’s moral objections.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to yell at me in the comments. I ain't even sorry.


	4. A Shotgun Shot in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did somebody say flashback? Also, Alyssa wears Fabletics and causes an uproar in the local gay community.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello beautiful readers. After a long hiatus away from this bad boy, I've decided that I simply must finish it during this quarantine or I will never know peace from my conscience. So...yay.

There was a party at Kaylee’s house the Friday night after Thanksgiving, junior year. Alyssa hadn’t been to many of them up until then on account of her mother watching her like a hawk, but on that particular day, she was in desperate need of some distraction… in both social interaction and liquid forms.

She rode with Shelby in Kevin’s car after somehow convincing her mother it would just be an all-girls movie night. Greg offered to pick her up in his dad’s car, but she politely declined and cited her trying to sell the ruse to her mother as the reason. But it wasn’t. The truth was, it had been days since the school Thanksgiving assembly, and yet, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get the thought of Emma Nolan out of her head. 

She couldn’t stop thinking about the way Emma seemed to have no fear at all as she stood before a not-so-friendly crowd of their peers and gave a rendition of John Lennon’s “Imagine” that was  _ far  _ from perfect but was perhaps the most endearing thing Alyssa had ever seen. She had fixated on how Emma seemed to truly believe every last lyric she sang, and the way her fingers were both expert and clumsy all at the same time as they formed the chords on the frets. 

When the song ended, Alyssa’s cheeks had become unbelievably warm, and as she gave genuine applause in a crowd of scattered claps, her eyes locked with Emma’s, and suddenly where only moments prior there had been mortification, she was smiling proudly as she exited the stage. Alyssa didn’t know for sure if it was actually her that Emma was looking at, but she  _ really  _ hoped she was. 

That thought scared Alyssa almost as much as it excited her as she stared at the passing houses from the car window. Her mind was on one person and one person only as they arrived at the party, the house teeming with kids from every grade and the music blaring from the stereo. 

_ Teach me how to dougie _

_ T-teach me how to dougie _

_ All my bitches love me _

_ All my, all my bitches love me _

When she walked through the door, Alyssa wasn’t expecting her boyfriend to be the first person she saw, but unfortunately, it turned out that avoiding him would not be as simple as riding in a different car. He was on her seconds after noticing her and weaving through a few classmates to reach her, his arm wrapping around her waist and pulling her into a tight side hug. She could already smell the Fireball cinnamon whiskey on his breath and it made her want to gag.

“There’s my girl! I was lookin’ all over for ya.” Greg slurred, his mouth moving to give sloppy kisses to her cheek that she couldn’t help but recoil from. “What?” He asked, pulling away and moving around to look her in the eye. “You aren’t happy to see me?”

_ No, no I am not. I’ve been actively avoiding you for days because I’m having some very confusing feelings for a girl. A very specific girl. _

“I’m happy to see you, I just need a little breathing room is all,” Alyssa said (rather unconvincingly) as she put her hands out in front of her as if it set a boundary. She was starting to feel vaguely nauseated at Greg drunkenly coming on to her in front of the whole school, which was probably not how a girl should feel about the boy she’d been with since middle school. 

But then, most girls don’t fall for their female lab partners over an objectively bad John Lennon song.

The rational side of her brain tried to remind her (in her mother’s voice) that Greg was sweet and handsome and had amazing taste in romcoms and movie musicals for a boy. That he was everything she should want in a boyfriend. And yet, Alyssa could barely bring herself to look him in the eye because she did not  _ want  _ a boyfriend; not even a perfect one. At least not while she couldn’t get Emma Nolan with her blonde curls and infuriatingly casual confidence out of her head.

“Whatever you say,” Greg said in a huff. He downed his drink and went to the kitchen for another without another word to her.

Alyssa sighed and very briefly considered going after him before thinking better of it. Instead, she delved deeper into the house, past a folding table set up for beer pong and down to the basement, where she found Kaylee hustling Nick at pool.

“So all the striped ones are gone. That means if I get the 8 in the hole, I win, right?” Kaylee asked, playing dumb and all but twirling her hair on her finger.

Nick nodded in annoyance, having obviously come to realize how badly he’d just been played.

Kaylee smiled wide before she took her pro stance and lined up the cue, sinking the 8-Ball with ease. “Guess it must have been beginner’s luck.” She said with a shrug and a faux sympathetic smile and finally seemed to notice Alyssa at the bottom of the stairs. “I was worried you wouldn’t make it!” She jogged over and enveloped Alyssa in the particular brand of vice grip hug only slightly intoxicated girls can give.

“And miss you humiliating your boyfriend? Never.” Alyssa cocked an eyebrow. “He  _ does  _ realize this is your house and therefore,  _ your  _ pool table, right?”

Kaylee rolled her eyes and shrugged. “That’s just boys for you. They think they’re the best at everything and it clouds their judgment.” She smiled coyly. “Well, that, and I told him that if he won, I’d—” instead of finishing that sentence, she made the universal mouth and hand gesture for a blowjob and Alyssa averted her eyes in disgust.

“So what exactly did  _ you _ just win?” Alyssa asked, looking in Nick’s direction. He seemed to be going through the five stages of grief before her very eyes.

“Oh, he has to do my Geometry homework for the next month. I  _ was  _ copying off Emma Nolan but  _ god  _ she’s been acting fuckin’ weird lately. I mean, did you see the assembly? Tragic.” She scoffed and picked up a solo cup of what appeared to be a lot of booze and a little bit of cola.

“It wasn’t  _ that  _ bad,” Alyssa argued as casually as possible.

“No, it seriously was. Like, we get it, you’re a dyke and you’re broody but  _ get  _ some guitar lessons, you know?” Kaylee rolled her eyes and went about re-racking the pool balls.

Alyssa shook her head. That word always struck a nerve with her, but she was never prepared to address the why. “Don’t… don’t call her that.”

“What, dyke? Lys, I hung out with the girl like all of elementary school, I think I can say for certain that she’s a big ol’ rug muncher.”

Alyssa shook her head, wondering if Kaylee had always been like this or if she’d been too caught up in being Little Miss Perfect to notice. “It doesn’t mean calling her that is okay, alright? What has she ever done to you?”

“I didn’t know you cared about her so much, Greene Light. Is there something you’re not telling me? Because word on the street is you’ve been giving Greg blue balls all year.” Kaylee cocked her eyebrow and bumped her hip into Alyssa’s, trying to goad her into spilling the beans on  _ that  _ whole situation. 

Was it a Jesus thing? An overbearing mother thing? Did Greg not wash well enough?

“She’s a good person and she doesn’t deserve you talking behind her back like this. And what I do or don’t do with my boyfriend is  _ none  _ of your or anybody else’s business.” With that, Alyssa was turning tail and heading back upstairs. The music was loud enough to drown out any sounds of protest from Kaylee, and Alyssa found herself heading for the kitchen.

_ I make them good girls go bad _

_ I make them good girls go _

_ Good girls go bad _

_ Good girls go bad _

Thankfully Greg had moved elsewhere, so Alyssa was left alone with the large bowl of red punch that may as well have been giving off fumes with how much alcohol had been poured in--a fact she quickly discovered after a brief moment of considering if she should really resort to drinking at a time like this.

“Eugh, god,” She said, gagging and holding the red plastic cup away from her face while she tried not to gag. Jungle juice, after all, is a far cry from communion wine. Though, once she regained her composure, she managed to down the rest of it, already beginning to feel the world around her spin just a bit.

Suddenly, Alyssa felt another bout of nausea come on, and thinking she’d rather be safe than potentially Exorcist puke red liquid all over Kaylee’s parents’ kitchen, she quickly made her way to the bathroom. She noticed that the door was closed but unlocked, so she went in anyway, finding the one person she was  _ not  _ equipped to deal with that night sitting on the closed toilet seat, eyes watery behind her glasses and cheeks pink and blotchy.

“Emma,” Alyssa breathed, suddenly feeling like she might throw up for reasons completely unrelated to alcohol consumption. But that feeling quickly changed to concern when it finally registered that Emma had been crying. “What’s wrong? What are you doing in here?”

Emma sniffled. “...would you believe me if I said I have allergies?” She wiped at her eyes with sweater sleeves.

Alyssa shook her head and stepped closer, kneeling on the floor beside her. She pointed at Emma’s face. “The uh, the cheeks sort of give that away. My mom looks the same way when she watches The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.”  _ That’s real smart, Alyssa. Compare the girl you’ve been having forbidden fantasies about to your mom. Why not bring up your dead grandmother while you’re at it? _

“Oh, right, you’re smart. Duh.” Emma rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, I guess that  _ would  _ be easy to forget when I single-handedly ended the Thanksgiving peanut brittle tradition in Mr. Lemley’s class,” Alyssa scoffed at her own stupidity.  _ Who blows up peanut brittle? _

“Although, to be fair, it was a tradition that was insensitive toward those with peanut and tree nut allergies,” Emma deadpanned.

Alyssa laughed, despite herself. “Did I hurt you, by the way? You sort of shielded me from the blast.”

“Oh, you know, a couple of sugar burns on my arm. Nothing a little aloe can’t fix. Honestly, I sort of wish you’d gotten my hands. Then I could have avoided that god-forsaken assembly.” Emma shuddered at the memory. 

“I thought you were great,” Alyssa said without even thinking about it.

Emma shook her head. “Nooo, I wasn’t, and that song is shit. Hawkins picked it.”

“I mean yeah, I jam to Paul McCartney myself, but you killed it considering you were working with post-Beatles John Lennon.” 

Alyssa considered it a small victory when Emma chuckled at that. “I’m more of a George Harrison girl, myself.”

Alyssa figured now was the time to press, while Emma seemed to be opening up to her. “But you didn’t answer my question earlier. Why were you crying?”

Emma bit her lip and wrung her hands, clearly fighting a battle with herself before speaking. “God, I guess I don’t have anything to lose by telling you at this point. Everyone’s gonna find out eventually, with how this town talks. Ummm… well, I sort of came out to my family last night.” Emma stared down into her lap, refusing to make eye contact.

“Oh. My god.” The last thing Alyssa wanted was to seem judgmental, but she was truly taken aback that Emma would confess something like that to her after they’d barely been friends in the ten or so years of passively knowing each other. She shifted her position to fully sit on the floor, trying to quell the sick feeling of...hope? That had settled into her gut. “Well, how did it go?”

Emma finally looked her in the eye, tear-stained face saying more than words ever could.

“Right.” Alyssa took a deep breath and crawled over to take a seat up on the edge of the bathtub, thinking it would be better to get on Emma’s level at a time like this. “So how bad are we talking?”

“Bad. I uh… I think I might be kicked out of my house?” She sniffled hard to clear her nose again and Alyssa grabbed a tissue from the box on the back of the toilet and handed it over. Emma accepted it unquestioningly and dabbed at her eyes. “I-I don’t know for sure yet, but I think that’s where it’s heading. I heard my parents whispering about trying to find me a ‘counselor’ but those guys are absolute whack jobs. My grandma’s like, shockingly cool with everything, though. She’s offered to let me move in with her if things get really bad,”

“Well, that’s good at least.” Alyssa gave Emma a small, reassuring smile, and she nodded in agreement and finally blew her nose.

“So...are you gonna tell Kaylee and Shelby about this?” She asked as she discarded the tissue in the small trash can next to her.

The question took Alyssa aback a moment. “Why in the hell would I do that?”

Emma’s face for the first time revealed to Alyssa how much she didn’t fully trust her. “Because they’re your BFFs and I know they’ve been spreading gay rumors about me for years, so...” She shrugged.

“If you know they talk about you like that, why do you let Kaylee copy your homework? Why are you at her house, for that matter?”

“Because Kaylee is a dipshit and once upon a time she was my actual friend, so I know she’s never gonna graduate high school without a little help. I only came here tonight to get out of the house, but it turns out being around a bunch of carefree, happy people isn’t exactly good for me right now.”

“So let’s get out of here.” The suggestion surprised even Alyssa as it left her mouth with next to no thought.

“Huh?” Emma asked, probably thinking she’d misheard.

“You and me. Let’s just...I don’t know. Go to Benny’s on Main?” She was just throwing out a random suggestion, but once she thought of it, the idea of nighttime bacon pancakes had Alyssa’s mouth-watering.  _ Was that what drunken munchies were like? Did she count as drunk after one drink? Probably. _

“Alyssa, please don’t be offended when I say this, but we have literally never hung out before.”

“Well, there’s no better time to start than the present. In any case, this party kind of sucks, I’m hungry, and I need a ride home anyway. You have your own truck, right?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Awesome! Then let’s just-” Alyssa reached over Emma to get a wad of toilet paper before taking it to the sink and running it under cold water. She wrung it out and brought it over to Emma, holding it against her left cheek for a few seconds and then the right. “-Get you looking like a million bucks again. Then we can blow this joint.”

Emma looked into Alyssa’s eyes, making her feel like it was the first time that anyone ever  _ really  _ looked at her. “Thank you. For listening and for... well, I don’t know anyone else who would just drop everything and do all this for their lab partner.”

“Any time.” Alyssa shrugged, but she knew damn well she was doing this because Emma was  _ not  _ just her lab partner. Not to her, anyway.

And there it was. The admission.

“So, I guess we can go now if you’re rea-” Alyssa cut Emma off mid-sentence as she made a split-second, life-altering decision. She leaned in to kiss her, capturing Emma’s lips and feeling as if her whole body breathed a sigh of relief at releasing a tension she didn’t know had been building within her.

* * *

When Alyssa wakes up in her childhood bedroom, at first the horrifying thought occurs to her that the last almost decade of her life has all been some slow-burning nightmare and she’s in fact still sixteen and dating her middle school boyfriend. But once the momentary panic wears off, the fuzzy memories of last night, of the bowling alley, of Emma, all come flooding back and about three things she is positive. The first; she is 25 years old. Second, she no longer lives in Edgewater. And third, she and Emma aren’t in love anymore.

Alyssa braces herself for the day ahead of her and gets out of bed to change into some Fabletics sports gear and her running shoes. She took up running after getting her job at her firm. She hates it desperately but she needed something to remind her that not everything is stagnant. She can take herself anywhere she needs to go, she just has to push harder.

As she leaves the house, she hears the shower in her mother’s bathroom running and out of old habit, she stops to leave a note on the fridge about her whereabouts before she’s out the door and jogging down the street.

The morning’s still cool, the sun hiding behind some clouds, but she can tell it’s going to be a scorcher. In Edgewater, most days in July tend to be. 

Alyssa breathes in the fresh air and runs a few feet with her arms spread out at her sides, feeling like her lungs have been deprived of oxygen for years. When she gets to the end of her block, she considers heading to the high school to take advantage of the abandoned-for-the-summer track but decides against it on the off chance that she could catch the band practicing for the parade. 

It’s not that she’s been  _ disliking _ seeing Emma everywhere she goes in this town, but where there’s a happy familiarity between them, there’s also an aching reminder of what was lost between them. So she continues in the opposite direction, past the KMart that’s apparently been turned into a kids trampoline park, towards a neon beacon of familiarity.

Benny’s is on the edge of town. Frequented mostly by truckers and old folks, it has been serving up the most delicious, greasy Hoosier diner staples for decades. It’s never so much as changed its menu, even as the rest of the town has begun gravitating towards the latest trends. It used to be a source of salvation to Alyssa whenever Veronica went on one of her fad diets and tried to drag her along for the ride-- she’s fairly certain that Benny’s grilled cheese sandwiches were at least 60% of the reason why she gained ten pounds in junior year (much to her mother’s horror).

The place evokes a lot of good memories. Late-night takeovers by the cheer squad and football team, waffles in to-go containers taken to school and scarfed down before her homeroom teacher would have time to care, that first night with Emma… 

No. She is not going to go there.

There are only a few cars in the parking lot when Alyssa finally sprints into the parking lot, relieved to see that she’s somehow beat the breakfast rush as she goes inside. She immediately takes an empty spot at the counter while she catches her breath and glances at the specials board advertising red, white, and blue waffles.

“Coffee?” The same waitress Alyssa remembers from high school asks as she comes around with a menu.

“Yes, please,” She replies with an enthusiastic nod as she begins looking over the menu. She’s absently dumping in sugar packets and cream into her cup when the bell from the door rings, signaling the arrival of someone else. She doesn’t bother looking up, getting lost in the internal struggle of wanting to order biscuits and gravy, and reminding herself that she was supposed to be  _ exercising _ this morning.

“They do gluten-free pancakes now. But I wouldn’t order them.”

Alyssa looks up to see Nick Boomer, who motions to the seat next to her. She nods and he takes it. She’s actually somewhat grateful to have some company in this town that’s not Emma or her mother, for once.

“So how are you? We didn’t get a chance to talk last night.” There’s something about the way he’s speaking to her that really comes across as a concerned dad—not that she has much first-hand experience with that sort of thing—and it’s somehow both amusing and endearing.

Alyssa shrugs. “Pretty good. It’s a little weird to be back, but I’ve liked seeing you all.”

The waitress chooses that moment to come around to take their orders, with Alyssa deciding at the last second on a vegetarian omelet while Nick goes for the biscuits and gravy (because of course he does). He also makes a point of telling the waitress he’d be covering both of their meals, which Alyssa knows is futile to argue with.

“Thank you,” she says once the waitress has gone to place their ticket in the window to the kitchen. “If there’s anything I’ve missed about this town, it’s this place.”

“What, they don’t got diners in the Big Apple?”

Alyssa sometimes forgets that it was actually a big deal that she got out of Edgewater at all, let alone moved to New York. “Not really like this, no.” Her mouth twitches up into a smile. “They don’t even have BPTs.”

Nick’s eyes widen dramatically. “Man, I don’t even… how does a girl from Indiana even survive without a BPT every now and then?”

Alyssa laughs and shakes her head, thinking of stressful nights poring over contract after contract and so desperately craving a pork sandwich bigger than her head. “I know. Believe me, I know.”

“So, no breaded pork tenderloin, and no Emma Nolan. Must have been rough. No wonder you came back.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively at that, and Alyssa scoffs.

“That second thing I  _ can  _ live without.”

“Really? ‘Cause I seemed to detect some tension there last night.”

Alyssa can’t seem to recall when Nick was so gossipy in high school, but then, procreating with and marrying (in that order) Kaylee Klein could do that to the best of men. “That’s because no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to avoid her.”

“Ah. Ex Magnet.” Nick nods with a knowing, dead-eyed expression. At Alyssa’s clear confusion, he adds, “I’m serious, there’s something about this town. Like a curse or something. It has a way of constantly putting you into awkward situations with your ex.” He shudders exaggeratedly and takes a few gulps of black coffee—which is perhaps the most damning piece of evidence of his transformation into a real-life Dad.

But then, Alyssa recalls the conversation last night regarding attempted spousal murder. “You and Kaylee aren’t…”

“We’re separated. We’re going to therapy once a week and who knows if it’s helping our problems, so it might be heading there, but, you know, technically not yet.” He bites his lip and averts his eyes from Alyssa’s gaze, looking into the void of his coffee cup while he holds it with both hands. Clearly, sharing the state of his marriage is still new to him.

“Oh god, I’m sorry,” Alyssa says, not knowing what else she could possibly add. She’s just getting used to having people her age get married. Divorce is for their parents.

Nick shakes his head. “Don’t be; it’s mostly my fault. We’re different from how we were in high school. Or maybe we aren’t and just the situation’s different.” He’s downing the rest of his coffee like Tennessee whiskey just as the waitress comes around to give him a refill. This is probably a morning ritual for him. “Either way, I think I get how you might be feeling.”

“Well, thank you.”

There’s just enough time for an awkward silence to develop before Nick adds, “And if it makes a difference, I always thought you were so far out of Nolan’s league anyway.”

Alyssa’s trying to figure out how to even begin to respond to that when the bell rings again and the very last person she wants to see walks through the door.

“See what I mean?” Nick whispers in her ear with an unseen but undeniable smirk as Emma comes in, hand-in-hand with  _ Her.  _

Emma spots Alyssa and looks as if she’s trying to avoid eye-contact in an attempt to get a bag of takeout without being seen, but clearly sees the futility in that and heads over, leading her obviously confused significant other. “Wow, we really do keep running into each other, don’t we?” She laughs nervously.

“I guess we’re just lucky like that,” Alyssa says through gritted teeth and turns to The Girlfriend. “I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met.”

Emma clears her throat and appears to steel herself for some drama. “Uh, Luce, this is Alyssa Greene. Alyssa, this is my-“

“Her fiancée,” Luce says with a confident smile, holding out her perfectly manicured hand for Alyssa to shake. “Dr. Lucia Ferrer.”

For her part, Alyssa feels like she’s been socked in the stomach. That information was definitely  _ not  _ on Instagram, but through sheer force of will, she’s able to not show a hint of distress on her face. Which is more than she can say for Emma.

“It’s nice to meet you,” She takes Luce’s hand, squeezing a little harder than strictly necessary but hey, why learn the practiced technique of the lawyer handshake if you aren’t going to use it.

“Alyssa was my um, my prom date,” Emma adds as she uncomfortably shifts her weight from one foot to the other and the gears visibly turn in the good doctor’s head as her demeanor shifts into something that is certainly not friendly.

“You know, the famous one,” Nick adds for Luce’s benefit before turning away from the conversation and looking at a menu, despite having already ordered.

“Oh my god, you’re  _ that  _ Alyssa! The one Emma had the prom canceled for!” The notion seems more amusing than anything to Luce. “I have to say, you’re much prettier than I imagined.”

“Um...thank you?” Alyssa isn’t sure if she should be offended or not. Probably. She knows alpha posturing when she sees it. “It’s interesting, I didn’t know Emma was engaged.” She unsubtly eyes Luce’s left hand, which is noticeably devoid of any ring.

“She’s so grown up now, right?” Luce giggles but Alyssa can tell that if this conversation were happening anywhere but a steadily filling diner, she might be involved in a good old-fashioned catfight by now.

Emma looks like she’d love for the linoleum floor to swallow her whole. “Well, we better take off.” She holds up the plastic bag of food as if to emphasize her point. “I don’t want these sammies to get cold, and if I don’t get to my kids soon, they might try to shove someone’s head into a tuba… again.”

“It was so nice meeting you,” Luce says, pointedly taking Emma’s free hand in her own and leading her out of the restaurant.

“Bye, Alyssa, bye Nick!” Emma calls over her shoulder before they’re out the door.

Alyssa gives her a small wave as Nick puts down his menu and chugs the rest of his coffee. “You see what I mean? Cursed.” He says, and Alyssa can hardly disagree with him.

* * *

* * *

The silence filling the cab of Emma’s truck as she drives Luce to work is deafening. Nobody has so much as bothered to turn on the radio, and they  _ certainly  _ aren’t talking about what just went down in the diner. But if there is one consistent thing Emma knows to be true about one Lucia Ferrer, it’s that she can’t hold her tongue for long when something’s bothering her. 

This assumption proves correct when Luce finally speaks. “So…I can assume she was the ‘friend’ who showed up at the bowling alley last night?” She is annoyed and a little hurt. Emma can tell without even having to glance over at her that she’s doing that thing where she stares blankly ahead while she speaks.

“There’s nothing between Alyssa and me anymore. I didn’t want you to overreact to her being back in town.” This is only half-true and Emma knows it. The old feelings between her and Alyssa the night before had been palpable, and you would have to be the most clueless person on Earth to not feel it. But she was never going to act on those feelings again, so Luce had nothing to worry about.

“Babe, you  _ lied  _ to me. I think my feelings are perfectly justified. And before you argue, yes, omission is still lying.” Luce is angry and betrayed, and for a rare instant in almost 3 years, Emma doesn’t feel the overwhelming need to placate her every concern, which she would likely come to regret later, she’s sure.

“I didn’t lie to you about a thing. I told you my old friend came back to town and went bowling with us. And that’s all Alyssa is to me. She’s an old friend.” This is a bald-faced lie and Emma knows it. As much as she’s so desperately tried to get rid of it, a part of her will always long for Alyssa. For the life they could have had together, had things played out a little differently all those years ago. She doesn’t foresee ever rekindling what they had, but she will never see her as just a friend. That would be impossible.

Luce lets out a dry laugh. “Sure she is. She seemed  _ so  _ thrilled to meet me.”

“Maybe because you were being hostile with her.” Emma is annoyed with this conversation and maybe she had no right to be, but she can feel the tension that has been building between them rise steadily up the surface.

“Oh,  _ I’m  _ hostile?” Luce’s tone is amused and annoyed.

“Well, it was sure not a great time to announce our  _ engagement.  _ Which, I will remind you,  _ you  _ wanted to wait on until after you got back.” Emma thinks back to the two of them discussing ring-shopping just the day before Luce gleefully announced her assignment. Things haven’t been the same between them since.

“Yes, and I wanted you to come with me, so I guess neither of us is exactly getting what we wanted.” Any hint of levity has left the truck cab with that cold and resigned statement.

Emma shook her head at this whole situation. How did the two of them get here from being mostly happy just a few months ago? “You wanna be jealous of Alyssa? Fine. But do  _ not  _ drag me into any of your petty bullshit.” She pulls into the hospital parking lot and kills the engine in front of the staff door. Finally, she looks over at Luce, who hasn’t made moves to get out of the car.

She takes a few deep breaths, collecting herself. “I’m sorry, I just assumed that my partner might be a little more understanding of my side of things. She’s your first love, Emma. I know she’ll always hold a special place in your heart, but despite everything that’s happened, I want to be your future and I don’t want anything getting in the way of that.”

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you decided to move to South America for almost a year.” That makes Luce wince and Emma feels bad for saying it, true or not. She reaches over the center console to take her hand. “Luce, I love that you’re such a hero. It’s my favorite thing about you-“

“But you would prefer I could be content with living in this town with you, maybe raise a couple of kids. And I am, Emma. I want that more than you will ever know. But sometimes things are bigger than just you and me.” For a second there, Luce maybe sounded genuine before it turned patronizing.

Emma pulls her hand back. “Do you need me to pick you up after your shift?” She asks, thinking of how this whole shitty morning could have been avoided if she had just not had guilt-driven one-sided sex last night.

“No, a few other residents have a carpool going and I was thinking of pulling a double, anyway.” Luce unbuckles her seatbelt and grabs her purse and breakfast sandwich from under her feet.

“Okaaay…” Emma draws out. They both know a double shift plus sleep equals the two of them not speaking for a couple of days. “I guess I’ll see you at the parade, then?”

“Guess so.” With that, Luce gets out of the truck and heads into the hospital.

Emma watches her mingle with a few other people near the door for a moment before she starts the truck back up and drives away.

Alyssa being back in town is irrelevant to the fact that her relationship has been going downhill for a while now, and Emma knows that, but she can’t help but feel guilty for making things worse. Even if, down to her core, she knows her relationship is on its last legs. Sure, she could maybe make it last a few more months with a little groveling, but she’s starting to realize that maybe she deserves to have a little more pride in herself.

Things were good with Luce in the beginning. They were comfortable. But now Emma’s not sure if they’ll even make the weekend. They want different things in life, and that’s not a new concept for her to wrap her head around; God knows she’s been through it before. Though a part of her thinks—no, it knows—that the seemingly inevitable end of things with Luce will never hurt her as deeply and profoundly as leaving New York six years ago with the shattered remains of her unruly heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is already in the process of being written so hopefully it won't take months and months this time. Pinky promise.  
> But you know what will make that process EVEN faster because I love me some validation once in a while as a treat? Commenting. I promise I will respond to every single one.


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